The Clutter! Oh... the Humanity!

SAVE me from the clutter! I can't stand the clutter! I can't stand the mess! I worked last night in the room until 7:30pm (outlasted ONLY by a die-hard second grade teacher and the custodians) trying to get the cr*P cleaned up and out.

There exists in the world a contingent of messy, messy children and I get them EVERY
single year. They are like Hansel and Gretl with with an endless amount of detritus,
from home and other places, that follows them around and is dropped WHEREever. They buy millions of pencils from the pencil machine but I find VOLUMES of tiny little pin-prick-razor-sharp little pencil stubs, everywhere! They drop crayons, markers, highlighters, and pencil-top erasers EVERYwhere and then swear to GAWD that the dropped items are not THEIRS, only to wail plaintively and accusingly that SOMEBODY STOLED THEIR __________ as soon as the dropped item is needed. They misplace their scissors, glue sticks, and green monster finger-pointers.

Papers? HA! Despite harping, nagging, cajoling, pleading, voice-raising, and threats, PAPERS litter the floor, the spaces in front of their cubbies, their 'desk-es,' their friends' 'desk-es' and everywhere else but where they are SUPPOSED to be -INSIDE their neatly-marked and clearly-defined CUBBIES!

And INSIDE the 'desk-es?' Nests for rats, mice, moles, and other rodents, complete with sleeping chambers, eating places, and livingrooms. Bombs could go off inside these labyrinths and the denizens would call it an "extreme makeover." They wail pitifully that something-very-important-that-the-teacher-just-asked-for has been STOLEN, LOST, HIjacked, and is MISSING! Clearly they are victims of grand theft here. And when faced with the said item, retrieved by the teacher's hand as she snakes through the labyrinth and disturbs the sleep of the tenants?

"Oh."

Are they shame-faced? NO! Are they at all embarrassed? NO! Do they think
that CLEANING up might be in order? Oh, HECK no! And jackets? Sweaters? Sweatshirts? Hats? Glove (yes, glove)? Scarves? THEY exist in a writhing, twisting, tangled and moaning mass of synthetic and natural fiber that could provide enough soft but pungent warmth for a developing nation. Hooks, so thoughtfully provided by the school? HA! Hooks are wall decor. Jackets, sweaters, sweatshirts, hats, glove, and scarves are MEANT to be thrown in Jackson-Pollack HEAPS that develop aesthetic qualities and, when provoked, block the path of any well-meaning citizen attempting to enter the room.

Occasionally these items MIGRATE, of their own accord and without their owners' knowledge, to the far-reaches of the playground, cafeteria, handball courts, restrooms, and the LAST RESORT: Lost and Found. (Which is a wet and oozing pile of forgotten clothing dumped unceremoniously on the sidewalk outside the cafeteria.)

BACKpacks? Those items I would like to BAN from public schools forever? Those rolling, swaying, thumping PITS of garbage that have every school notice, every spelling paper, math homework, reading buddy bags, and all matter of kitchen-sinkdom entering and leaving my classroom each day? The rolling ones that need to be re-classified as weapons? The walking commercials for any and all of the hottest and latest action figure and Saturday morning cartoon characters? The ones graffitied and marked up by older siblings with signs that probably translate "death to teachers" and "life sux" and "I wish I could be suicide bomber and not die a horrible and painful death?" The ones holding snacks foraged from the pantry 12 days ago, joining forces with a quarter inch of juice left over from breakfast and a cheese stick that was opened, half-eaten, and forgotten? The rodents living in the desk-es gaze LONGINGLY from the livingroom section, KNOWING there is a smashed cookie in that backpack but to attempt retrieval across the coats and glove is to risk losing life and/or limb because the children LOVE animals.

And if I am misguided enough to give them a bag of something like, oh say... PEANUTS so we can do some AIMS peanut math and science activities? Sigh. Ever see the floor of a bar room? Or a restaurant that uses peanut shells as day-core so they don't have to clean up real good? Yes! We will be walking over peanut shell remnants for a VERY long time. They blend well with the home-made PEANUT BUTTER that was carefully placed on CRACKERS during a 'fraction' activity. How in the world PEANUT BUTTER made it from the CRACKER on the desk-es to the floor is a divine mystery and has something to do with the rodents living in the desk-es, I am sure.

Yes, these children are MINE. I get them EVERY year and am convinced of a conspiracy. A meeting that takes place without my knowledge, behind closed doors, during the late spring of every school year. Any child who resembles Pigpen from the Peanuts comic strip is placed in my room, where he/she can take apart puzzles and put pieces in the bookshelves, behind the cubbies, under beanbags, and under the RUG they so thoughtfully stash other things under on a daily basis. Any child deemed NOT MESSY ENOUGH is placed in another classroom.

I need a maid. I need a very large and powerful central vacuum. I need industrial
strength carpet cleaner. I need velcro. Lots and lots of velcro.
:-)Kim